“Well, well! But now, I'll say this for you, Hicks. You're an entertainin' man. I'll say that to anybody that asks. I'll say, 'Hicks is a man that's got language, if I know what's what.'”
The jailor rose. Allen swung his foot swiftly.
“I wish you'd do something for me, Sweeney.”
“What's that?”
“Let me have the gas at night. I don't sleep good. If I had the gas I could get up and read. You heavy men, you sleep all night. You don't know what it is.”
“Why, I'll see, Hicks. I'll ask about that to-morrow.”
“Oh, let me have it to-night!” he pleaded.
“I ain't going to sleep good to-night. I can feel it. It'll be eternity before morning. I swear I'll be dead before morning. I'll turn it low.”
“Well—I don't see no harm in that. It ain't in me to rough a man.”
He went out, locking the door noisily behind him.